I stepped into Mom’s house, the familiar scent of freshly baked cookies and her signature perfume enveloping me. Yet, beneath the nostalgic aroma, an undercurrent of my long-repressed lust swirled to life. I couldn’t deny it anymore – the taboo attraction to my own mother had blossomed into an overwhelming obsession.

As I shut the door behind me, Jeanne Lamonica emerged from the kitchen, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of me. “Anthony, sweetie! It’s so good to see you.” Her warm smile softened her features, but all I could focus on was the tantalizing curve of her body in that fitted sundress.

I strode towards her, my pulse rapid and breaths shallow. “Mom, I need you to bend over right now,” I commanded, my voice low and urgent. The words hung in the air, heavy with arousal and confession.

She hesitated, her brow furrowed in confusion and a touch of fear. “Anthony, what’s… what’s going on? This isn’t like you.” Her voice trembled, but beneath it, I detected a hint of excitement, a thrill at the forbidden nature of the request.

I grabbed her shoulders, my fingers digging into her soft skin as I pulled her flush against me. “Don’t question it, Mom. Just do as I say,” I growled, my erection straining against my jeans.

With a shaky nod, she complied, bending at the waist to present her ass to me. The position exposed the delicate lace of her panties, the fabric clinging to the swell of her plump rear. I groaned, my mouth watering at the sight.

I yanked down her panties in one swift motion, revealing the glistening pink folds of her vulva. “Fucker,” I hissed in satisfaction, cupping her ass cheeks and spreading them apart.

Mom whimpered, her face buried in the crook of her elbow as she waited for the inevitable. I didn’t keep her waiting. With a hard thrust, I buried my cock deep inside her, relishing the tight, exquisite heat that enveloped me.

“Fuck, Mom,” I moaned, my hips snapping forward in a frenzied rhythm. “You’re so tight, so perfect.” I grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back to expose the pale column of her neck. “Scream for me, baby. Let everyone know who’s fucking you.”

She cried out, the sound muffled but filled with anguish and pleasure. Her inner walls clenched around me, drawing me in deeper with each stroke. I pistoned my hips, losing myself in the primal dance of lust and taboo.

The bed creaked as I pushed her forward, sending her crashing onto the mattress. I followed close behind, my weight pinning her down as I drove into her with renewed vigor. The bedroom filled with the obscene slap of flesh against flesh, Mom’s high-pitched moans, and my grunts of satisfaction.

My pace quickened, each thrust a desperate pursuit of release. I could feel my balls tightening, the familiar tingle spreading through my spine as I neared the edge. “Cum for me, Mom,” I hissed, my voice raw with need. “Cum on my fucking cock.”

With a strangled cry, she spasmed beneath me, her pussy clenching in a vice-like grip as she came hard. The sensation triggered my own orgasm, and I buried myself to the hilt, spurting ropes of hot cum deep into her quivering core.

We collapsed together, panting and trembling in the aftermath of our illicit encounter. I couldn’t bring myself to move, still buried inside Mom as I savored the weight of our forbidden union.

In that moment, the consequences, the shame, and the taboo nature of our act faded into insignificance. All that mattered was the intense, primal connection we had shared—the knowledge that we had crossed a line together and emerged on the other side, forever changed.